


Unraveled

by bright73



Series: Revelations -  tags to  5.23/24 Grave Danger [1]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Character Study, Drama, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bright73/pseuds/bright73





	Unraveled

He was able to hold it together in the ambulance.

He had to. Losing it right there wasn't an option. Not with Nick trembling and shivering, clasping his hand desperately despite all the medication the paramedic poured into him. Nick was still on the edge of hysteria. And it seemed contagious.

Looking at him claw at the restraints, not quite conscious, and listening to the hoarsely whispered pleads tore at what was left of his shattered heart. All he could do was hold Nick's hand, mumbling reassurances at him when he jumped every time the ambulance took a turn and he felt the restraints. He moaned and tried to get up, every damn time that happened and his eyes were dark pools of bottomless panic.

Warrick had to put his free hand on the heaving chest and push him down gently. The heart beats raced under his palm and terrified him. He begged the paramedic to give Nick more of whatever he was administering trough the I.V. The paramedic shook his head, there was no way they'd risk overdosing him at this stage. So Warrick held him down, talking soothingly to him, as he would to a child, trying to reach trough that blinding fear he read in Nick's unfocused eyes.

Helpless, that's what he felt like, utterly helpless and guilty.

Catherine must have sensed his agony because she put her hand over his on Nick's chest and took over the soothing mumbles when Warrick's voice broke. She must have understood by then, but at that stage he didn't care who knew that his feelings for the man on the stretcher were far deeper than he wanted to admit. Even to himself.

Standing there, watching them wheel Nick away and listening to the rest of the team arriving he had asked Catherine about why Griss had called Nicky 'Pancho' and at her tale his throat had narrowed. He had to stop talking after that. His voice would have come out a pitiful moan, he just knew it.

But he had held it together more or less. Until now.

Standing here, watching Nick being hooked up to various machines with a horde of people clad in white dancing around the room in hurried steps and with blank faces, they started mercilessly. When he watched Nick trying to get up again, desperately and one of the nurses pushed him back down, causing him to almost jerk off the stretcher, resulting in him being strapped down harder. That was when he looked at the BP-monitor and saw the stellar readings blinking in red.

That was enough for his hands to start trembling and his own breath to run uneven. Stuffing his hands deep into his pockets he looked around to see if anybody had noticed. Nick's mother and father stood by the door, eyes unblinking as they looked inside the brightly lit room. The tears that rolled down her pale face gave more nourishment to Warrick's tremor.

Brass and Grissom's faces were unreadable as they stood side by side, stern and serious. But their eyes were also locked in one direction only. Ecklie behind them, face actually showing concern, for another human being no less. A nurses-aid walked up to him and spoke quietly. Ecklie looked at her and threw a glance back at the entrance of the ER before he took one last look at Nick and walked away.

 

Warrick let his eyes roam to Sara and Greg, standing by the Plexiglas. Sara's hands resting on the surface, finger bent like claws. The tension in her was evident. And Greggo, face pale and arms crossed over his chest like he needed to physically hold himself together. When his jaw tightened Warrick looked back into the room.

Nick was being held down and the BP kept rising. Then the blinds were closed and shut them all out.

The silence was deafening.

His own breath didn't run even any longer. He felt like he was suffocating even if he was breathing fast, trying to stop the ringing in his ears, the nausea and his teeth from clattering. The tremors took hold of his diaphragm, making it even harder to control his bearing. He was afraid he'd whimper helplessly at any time now.

And he must have. Suddenly all eyes were on him. They all looked, scrutinizing him and he felt his shoulders start to tremble too.

“Warrick?” Cath's hand on his arm made him jerk.

He didn't even look at her before he stormed off, breaking out in cold sweat. His eyes fixed on a green light at the end of the corridor, he more stumbled than walked. Fumbling with the doorknob and cursing his own useless hands he finally managed to pull the door open. His damned legs weren't holding him up any longer, he saw the staircase and held onto the railing while he sank down onto it. By now his vision was dim and the ringing in his ears was constant. He wasn't able to breathe.

What's wrong with you, you moron, he berated himself. Get a grip already. This is ridiculous.

Closing his eyes he tried to recollect what was left of his bearing. As he did the pictures of Nick's desperation rolled mercilessly behind his eyelids. The screams, the pleads and the absolute terror.

A wave of nausea hit him with full force. He groaned and felt a hand land on his shoulder.

“Warrick?”

Cath. Of course. She saw everything, she easily put two and two together and may make it turn out twenty-two but was seldom wrong. She knew by now, of that he was sure. And she'd watch him fall apart. He was a strong man, he never fell apart like this. Nick might, but not he.

 

How wrong he had been about that. He'd often considered Nick soft, maybe too soft for the job. Nick would empathize with the victims, live through the pain and there was the risk it would cloud his judgement. He knew better now.

“Rick.”

 

Cath's voice was just as soft as when she spoke to Nicky in the ambulance. Her hand stroke his cheek and it wasn't before now he realized he was crying. Silently the tears rolled over the dirt on his cheeks and dropped onto his pants. Opening his eyes he watched them forming evidence of just how weak a man he really was. Nick had reason to cry, not he.

Get a fucking grip!

But he wasn't able to. When Cath sat down besides him on the stairs he started sobbing audibly. He wasn't even able to recall when he´d actually cried last. Now it was like a fucking floodgate. Right in front of Cath.

“You're hyperventilating.”

Like he didn't know, he was more than painfully aware of that. The pitiful sobs punctuated every damned shallow inhale and rushed exhale.

“Just hold your breath Rick, just hold it for a moment and it'll pass.”

He did as told but the sobs made it hard. The shame made it even harder. And the pictures behind his closed eyes made it impossible. Nick screaming, freaking out and raising the gun to end it.

Cath left and he hung on to the railing, feeling the need to bang his head hard against it to stop all this. End this ridiculous sobbing and stop the freaking movie inside his head.

Suddenly there was a bottle of water stuck under his nose.

“Drink.”

He hated when Cath went all mother-hen on him. She seldom did but right now he obliged and let the cool, pricey water rinse the salty taste out of his mouth and help suffocate the damned tears.

Then he sat there in silence, still trembling. The movie in his head repeating itself over and over, he didn't even have to close his eyes anymore to be assaulted by the visions. They came unbidden and mixed with new images. Nick on the stretcher, being held down with force. His eyes as they mirrored everything going on inside of him. Like they always did. One of the things he loved about Nick, those eyes telling the world that inside that clean-cut man was a fountain of emotions and reactions mixed with integrity and pride. A man to love. The man he loved. He didn't want to love him, he didn't have room for any puppy-eyed sweetness in his life, but goddamnit he couldn't help himself.

“I keep hearing him scream.” The words fell out of his mouth before he was able to stop them.

Cath put the hand back on his shoulder.

“I keep seeing him when I close my eyes. Jesus fucking Christ it won't stop!”

“Rick, he'll be fine eventually. It's Nicky we're talking about. He's magnet for trouble but he keeps coming back. He's stronger than what's on the surface. He'll pull trough. You saw that tonight, he wouldn't give up and that's what ultimately saved him.”

“I know.” Christ, now he's crying again. Head bent down he feels the tears roll down his cheek. Soon he'd be telling her how much he loves him too. That he's been wanting him for years and never done anything about it. And tonight he's realized it's just not attraction and need but fucking love.

“I love him too,” Cath spoke silently, “maybe just not the way you do.”

“I know.” Great, there it was, the confession. He could tell Cath what he couldn't even admit to himself. But it's true, what he felt for Nick Stokes was not brotherly love. He wanted Nicky Stokes, in every way possible and he was too chicken to tell him that. He didn't even care what Nick felt, all he knew was that he needed to tell him, somehow. Maybe not with words, he was a disaster with words. But somehow he needed to let the man know.

The door to the emergency exit opened and Sara's voice carried through to him. “You all right? You've been sitting here for hours, they're moving him to the ICU. Nick's asking for you Warrick so they told me to come get you. It's limited visitations as for now, he's still shaky but he's doing better, Griss told me. His parents had to go back to the Hotel. His mother kept crying and Nick was getting too upset by it. ”

He grunted in response to Sara's babble.

Cath took his hand and pulled at it. “C'mon, you need to see him to get all those pictures out of your head.”

The mother-hen was awake again but he followed. Not even minding Sara's expression when she spotted his tear-stricken face. Cath suggested he'd go rinse off his face but he shot her one of his more deadly glares. He'd had enough mother-henning to last him a life-time tonight. Soon she'd be asking him to go potty before visiting Nick too.

Sara took the lead and he followed trough winding corridors, noticing that it indeed was light outside and they probably had been sitting in the stairway for hours. He merely nodded as they passed the room where Griss and Greg sat perched at the end of their seats and stopped at a sharply lit atrium filled with beeps and windows.

A nurse looked at them as they traversed the floor and Sara stopped by her side.

“Only one visitor and 5 minutes,” the nurse ordered.

“He's been asking for Warrick,” Cath explained and filed in after him.

He didn't even register the beeps and the machinery Nick was hooked up to, all he saw was the pale face and the eyelids fluttering nervously and opening when Cath closed the door behind them.

“Nicky,” the word leaped out of him like a prayer.

There were still remnants of terror in his bud's eyes and he made a sound.

“I'm here, Nicky, I gotcha.”

Without thinking he took the hand stretched out to him. His own tremor subsiding as he felt Nick's hand clasping his.

Truth be told, it was Nicky that had him.

Cath walked up, dragging a plastic chair from the other side of the room with her. Placing it directly under his butt. If his eyes hadn't been fixed on Nick's he would have bestowed her with another glare.

She laid a hand on Nick's chest and looked long and hard before smiling with trembling lips. “I'll leave you two alone,” she said, “see you tomorrow Nicky, try and get some rest.” Her voice was all tight and she turned around to walk out.

Nick tried to speak but didn't quite manage to get the words out.

“It's all right, you don't have to say anything,” Warrick hurried to tell him as Cath closed the door. “Don't need to say a word Nicky, just get some rest man.”

Nick's eyes were fixed on his and Warrick almost felt the effort it took for him to get the whispered 'Thank you' out.

And he was tearing up again. “No need Nicky, no need.” His voice broke and he closed his eyes, holding onto the hand for all he was worth.

The door opened again a voice called for his attention. “Sir, you better leave and give him some rest.”

“No!” Nick croaked in his panicky voice.

That was all it took. Warrick looked at the nurse by the door and shook his head. “I'm not leaving him.” He turned his eyes back at Nick and sank to the stool. “I'm not leaving you Nicky,” he said through tears.

He held onto the hand and placed his free one on the heaving chest. “I gotcha man and I'm not letting go.”

Nick's eyes searched for his and he visibly relaxed at the promise. Warrick's head sank to rest up against the shivering shoulder and Nick finally calmed down while Warrick breathed in the scent he'd been dreaming of for so long. Soap and enigma, that was what Nick was to him and some day he hoped the enigma would unravel. Nick rested his head up against his and his breaths evened out to calm, deep inhales and exhales. The grip on his hand wasn't full of fear any longer and Warrick realized he was finally falling asleep. Finally finding some peace.

He himself started fucking crying again. Anyone passing would see him sobbing onto the other man's shoulder. And he didn't care because Nick's sleep was calm and his hand fit perfectly in his own.


End file.
